


no man is an island, entire of itself

by SerenePanic



Series: VLD Angst Week 2017 [6]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-09 16:33:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10416387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerenePanic/pseuds/SerenePanic
Summary: When a person is lonely, the obvious solution would be to go spend time with people.The obvious solution is not the easiest solution, which is to isolate oneself even further, and stew in unchecked loneliness.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title from John Donne's "No Man is an Island"
> 
> Part of VLD Angst Week.
> 
> March 23rd: Loneliness/Exclusion.

Hunk misses the sun. He misses being warm. He misses his family and his parents and his friends and his home.

He misses Earth.

He has friends here, sure—Pidge and Keith and Lance, and he doesn’t know what he’d do if he didn’t have them—but there’s something to be said for having his family around. His family who got on his nerves sometimes, sure, when they didn’t understand that he just _couldn’t_ give speeches or talk in class or make friends easily—but they were his family and he missed them. He was lucky, he knew—his mothers loved him and made sure he knew that, and he’d never felt like he couldn’t tell them when something was really bothering him, and he just…he missed it. He missed that certainty, where even if he made a mistake, he could go to his moms and talk to them and they’d walk him through how to fix it.

He misses feeling safe. He’s so tired here, all the time—and he knows it’s worthwhile, he knows why he can’t go home, he knows what he’s doing is important.

But that doesn’t stop him from feeling so _damn lonely_. Sure, he could hypothetically go and ask one of the others to come and spend time with him until he didn’t feel like he had a hollow in his chest anymore. Hypothetically, at least one of them would be willing to talk to him, or at least exist in the same space as him. Hypothetically, if he went up to Lance and asked if he wanted to have a movie night Lance would look up at him and grin and agree and they’d spend time together, just the two of them, like they used to. Hypothetically, he could go to Pidge and they could talk tech to each other. Hypothetically, he could ask Keith to help him in the kitchen, and Keith would agree, because anything is better than goo.

Of course, hypothetically doesn’t really mean anything, in the real world. He could do all those things, theoretically, but he won’t. He knows he won’t.

Keith’s stressed about everything that’s happened with Shiro. Pidge is busy analyzing all the data she can find about her family, and is desperately trying to find Shiro on top of that. Lance has been…quiet, recently. Quiet and withdrawn. Whenever Hunk tries to bring it up, his face shutters closed, and Hunk loses his voice and ends up not bringing it up at all, because clearly Lance doesn’t want to talk about it.

But Hunk is lonely, and he wishes he was better at telling people, because he knows that being alone is the worst thing for him right now—but that’s what he does, all the same.

Oh, he keeps up a brave face. He spends just enough time in the kitchen and with everyone else to fool them, and to make it seem like he has himself together.

His chest feels like his stomach, when he’s hungry. Empty and hollow and echoing, a little, like it knows something is missing and it’s calling out to be fixed. He watches Lance withdraw, and Pidge cling to Keith, and Allura to Coran, and he just…feels extra. He should talk to Lance, he _knows_ , because he knows his best friend and he knows that if Lance ever figured out that Hunk felt this way he would set his face all serious and stubborn and poke Hunk in the chest each time he lists something he values about him and go on like this until Hunk can’t take anymore without laughing, and he would nudge Hunk with his shoulder and tell him awful, _terrible_ jokes until Hunk really, legitimately felt better. He knows this is what would happen, because that’s what Lance did every other time Hunk felt like this, back at the Garrison.

But he still can’t bring himself to reach out, not out here, not where everyone is missing home and probably feels even worse than he does.

Some selfish part of him wants someone else to notice, first, and reach out. He’s tired of having to do it on his own, all the time. He just wants someone to know him well enough to recognize when he’s sad. He wants someone to know him well enough to recognize that something’s wrong. He wants someone to know and _care_ and even if he hates inconveniencing people, he wants there to be someone who won’t care if they’re being inconvenienced, because to them, Hunk is more important. He knows it’s selfish, and he shouldn’t want it—but he does.

Some deep, twisted part inside of him asks him if that’s the real reason why he won’t go to Lance. Because he can see that Lance is struggling with something, and he can see that Lance would probably appreciate the help—but _dammit he wants help too_ and _for once, let Lance come to m e and help m e please I don’t want to do this anymore_.

Hunk hates that part of him, and he tries to squish it down and justify why he won’t go to Lance—but inside, he knows. He’s jealous and bitter and so lonely and he just wants someone to _see_ that and he’s hurting people by acting this way _—he’s hurting Lance he knows he is but can’t he be selfish for once can’t someone come to him for once_ —but that doesn’t stop him from acting like this.

He feels guilty, constantly, but he can’t seem to make himself be better, like he knows he should be.

He just wants somebody to notice that he’s lonely and care enough to step in. Really. That’s all he wants.

(That’s what he tells himself.)


End file.
